“Hand me the biscuits, you fool!”
Raju started, hearing Mr. Chand’s voice suddenly.
The cranky old man wouldn’t leave him in peace even here in these beautiful surroundings.
What a life he had – same thing day in, day out. He hated the non-stop cycle of feeding the old fool, cleaning up after him, wiping his mess, taking him on walks, listening to him sermonizing and admonishing him.
He felt suffocated, trapped.
Destiny had deprived him the right to an independent life, and he had ended up a companion-cum-attendant for his distantly related paternal grand-uncle.
Did Raju have a choice? His mother had died when he was twelve, and he was forced to leave his village and come to Patna.
Father had left them a few years back, but father’s extended family was moneyed with a lot of property. Someone took pity on the orphaned Raju and gave him shelter.
And condemned him to lifelong slavery at the Mishra haveli.
Though he was supposed to be a “relation”, the work he did was that of a menial. They gave him food, clothing and shelter, after all. And doled out a meagre compensation for that every three months. Bonus, if he could get leave to visit his village once a year.
And if the old man travelled anywhere, he was supposed to chaperone him. Pity they just went to other relatives’ houses, where Raju was made doubly conscious of his status.
Even a pet dog led a better life, he thought bitterly.
This was the first time he had come to a hill station and Darjeeling had enchanted him totally. It was so beautiful! It was like heaven for him. The foggy skies, the cold breeze, high mountain tops, the sun playing peek-a-boo with the clouds, flowers of every kind all around… it was unbelievable.
He was happy for the first time in his fifteen-year life.
He was reminded of his childhood, the fields they were surrounded with - full of mustard flowers, his mother churning buttermilk, his father carrying him on his shoulders, his buddies playing gulli-danda with him.
Suddenly, he teared up. Where did that life go? What had he done to deserve this hateful existence?
This old man ordered him around like a servant. If only he was not there, maybe he could escape this life of misery.
He had been talking to a couple of drivers nearby who had promised to look for other jobs for him. One of them had told him about something coming up in a hotel in Delhi.
But this old man was totally dependent on him. The boy was his permanent, pliant crutch. And Raju knew he wouldn’t let him go to live his life independently.
Normally he would tolerate all of the man’s tantrums without much fuss. But in these sylvan surroundings, his demands and bickering felt more like stones pelted at him. Why shouldn’t Raju be free to enjoy himself at least in this heaven?
They had come to the Darjeeling Rock Garden, a sprawling area covering several acres of mountain area. The flowers in bloom, lush green, spectacular views had Raju mesmerized. He just stared all around, soaking in all the sights and sounds. The air was so free, so invigorating. Everything seemed lovely, just picture perfect.
He loved to sketch in his free time, and was itching to draw these splendid sights.
After lugging his tormentor for a considerable distance over the rough terrain, he was a little out of breath too. The path was rocky and he had to precariously balance the old man on his wheelchair.
And now, this barrage.
Forget praising his efforts, the old fool was now scowling and cursing him for forgetting to feed him.
Raju looked at the others who had gone a little ahead.
His cousin Sanjay was flirting with a pretty young girl from another group. His uncle and aunt were chatting away with others without a care in the world. And he was cursed to be at this old man’s beck and call even in this beautiful hill station.
Suddenly, he felt desperate. Couldn’t he just run away from here? Slip away when the others weren’t watching? How difficult would it be to dash to the bus terminus and board the next bus – to whichever destination it went? But he realized with a sigh, what about money? He hadn’t a penny on him. These tightfisted idiots knew how to keep him chained.
Anyway, he was going to ignore the old man and enjoy himself. Wandering around, he sat down at a pretty nook, admiring the orchids and gladioli in full bloom. How did God make such perfect creations, so perfectly formed, with all their parts in just the right place?
“Ahhh….urggh!!” He was jolted by a shriek. What was that? Jumping up he looked at the direction of the noise, and saw that the wheelchair had rolled off the path and was dangling dangerously from a bend!
The old man had been almost knocked off, just a bit of his dhoti stuck at the end of the wheelchair. He screamed to the boy to help him immediately.
Raju was about to rush to do the needful, when something crossed his mind. Why the hell should he rush to save his tormentor? If the cranky old man fell to his death from the cliff edge, nobody would mourn his death, Raju knew for sure. His son and his family detested his stingy ways, and Raju had overheard them several times wishing he was gone.
And Raju would be finally free to live his own life, wouldn’t he?
In any case, the old fool wouldn’t thank him for saving his life if he did save. He was still cursing and spouting abuses in full force. The wheels were slowly but surely sliding down the other side. Best to let the thing dangle till it toppled over, Raju decided.
The fall was sharp and steep, and there was not a chance the old man would survive it.
Raju hid himself in the bushes and pretended to have walked away. Now the old man realized that Raju wasn’t around to help him and almost screamed his lungs out. There was terror in his eyes as he desperately shouted for help.
Luckily for Raju, it had started raining on the mountains. Tourists had taken shelter under various stands, with no one willing to risk walking on these slippery slopes. There wasn’t a soul around. The wheelchair wheels creaked and slid further down, teetering dangerously from a curve.
To be continued.....
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